


What Not To Take On A Desert Island

by orphan_account



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Humor, Male Protagonist, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-01
Updated: 2009-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-04 01:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck lands a WWII fighter plane on the Buy More parking lot. It does not end well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Not To Take On A Desert Island

'It's no use,' said Jeff, sitting down in the shade while Chuck lugged another load of bamboo stalks towards the building site. 'We're going to die slow, painful deaths.'

'I don't suppose you could help? Just a little?' asked Chuck as he fitted the stalks up against each other and began tying them together with woven rope.

'What's the point? I don't even watch survival shows. Neither do you. We have no idea what to do in a situation like this. If we're not stung to death by some weird tropical insect carrying a disgusting deadly disease we'll be eaten a tiger or a snake or something.'

'Snakes we may have to worry about,' said Chuck, 'but I don't think large predators could survive on an island this small. While we were crashing, between screaming and trying to remember the controls from _Battle of Britain_, I noticed it couldn't be more than a few miles across.'

'How come you're so Bear Grills these days? What were you doing landing a World War II fighter plane on the Buy More parking lot, anyway?'

'What were _you_ doing climbing into it?'

'Ah, excuse me,' Jeff wiggled a finger, 'I think "how come you have a fighter plane" trumps the question "why did you climb into it", not to mention it sort of answers the latter question anyway.'

'Look, I'm transmitting on the plane's radio constantly. Someone is bound to come and rescue us. They could be on their way right now!'

'You said the same thing two days ago. Also, you didn't answer me.'

'Well, it's still true. Here.' Chuck dropped a pile of seaweed on Jeff's lap. 'We still need more rope, so... weave.'

Jeff picked up three strings of wet weed and studied them. 'Remind me again - how do you make a braid?'

Chuck groaned and sat down on the sand, his head in his hands. 'We _are_ going to die.'

'That's what I've been saying all along. Say, do you have any more of those coconuts?'

-

When Sarah and Casey landed in their amphibian craft and lowered the float, they could see Chuck in a ragged shirt still waving and shouting on the shore by the crashed Volksjäger. Sarah jumped the boat as he waded towards them, and the two met in a fierce and unprofessional embrace.

Casey snorted and motored closer to the shore, then jumped off, keen eyes scanning the area. He noticed a ramshackle hut and the remains of a cooking fire not far off. 'You're lucky we picked up your transmission, Bartowski,' he said, after he figured the happy couple had had enough time to get their public display out of the way. 'This is typhoon territory.'

'One more day and I may have had to kill myself,' Chuck said, wading back towards the beach with Sarah scooped up in his arms. At least she had the decency to look a little ashamed, Casey noted, though he couldn't discount the possibility that her cheeks were pink with pleasure.

'I don't know,' said Casey, looking around. 'Looks like you did pretty well for yourself. There's enough fruit and hunting on this island, if you don't get too greedy.'

'It's not that,' said Chuck miserably. 'It's Jeff.'

'Jeff?'

Chuck nodded. 'It started on the fourth day. There's no use telling him Sunday morning cartoons have at best a tenuous relationship with reality. It would be at least a little better if it wasn't so offensive.'

'What are you saying, Chuck?'

Chuck opened his mouth to answer, but his eyes fixed on a point behind Casey's shoulder and he froze. Casey reached for his gun as he turned quickly, following Chuck's gaze.

Jeff was wearing a grass skirt and a wreath of flowers, his belly burned pink from the sun. In one hand, he was holding a cracked coconut with a hollow reed stuck into it; in the other, he held a pointy stick. Jeff gave the three of them and the aircraft a wild, disapproving glare, hissed, and loped off into the protection of the trees.

Chuck swallowed. 'He's gone "native".'

-

Two weeks later Jeff was back at work in the Buy More, browner and more frazzled than before, but essentially the same. 'I had a minor mental breakdown,' he explained. 'I thought I was stuck on a desert island with Chuck.'

'I told you to stay away from cheap absinthe, man,' Lester told him, and things pretty much went on as normal.

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a result of a prompt meme, with the prompt given by Zoi no Miko that said "Chuck and Jeff's plane crashes on a desert island and they must help each other survive.".


End file.
